


When the Kingdoms are at Stake

by NobleZeda



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, BAMF Morgana, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Merthur - Freeform, Pining, Prince Merlin, arthur is a fuckin idiot but what else is new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 11:38:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4136043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobleZeda/pseuds/NobleZeda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's petty, really, that they couldn't settle their differences for the good of the kingdom. That being said, Prince Merlin absolutely would NOT be the one to marry Prince Arthur. Probably. He didn't even know that that was the reason he was in Camelot. </p><p>He absolutely wouldn't let his guard down. Arthur was a clotpole with only room for himself in his heart. They weren't getting close. He wasn't more attractive than the rumors made him out to be. And...</p><p>And Merlin hoped that Arthur would kiss him again. But he had met hardly anything but disappointment in Camelot so far. That wasn't about to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Kingdoms are at Stake

Camelot appeared very suddenly. One moment trees, the next, a towering kingdom built of white stone, surrounded by thick walls enveloping the city like a protective embrace. Merlin's horse clopped up the hill, his bags jangling and jostling with every step. His escort guards trailed behind and before him, eyes forward, but calling to each other and laughing. As jovial as Merlin found it, he did not take part in it. Something in him remained solemn.

"Is everything alright, my lord?" asked Merlin's manservant, Will. Of course Will noticed. Will always noticed.

The knights continued to call and jeer over Merlin's quiet reply. It was a nice over for the privacy Merlin suddenly desired. Usually, he was an open book.

"I'm... fine, Will. I'm sure that Princess Morgana will be... quite charming. I just don't see how I can marry her. We've never met. I've absolutely no idea what to expect. What if she's awful? What if I never learn to love her?"

"My lord, you are the one person I know of who sees the good in all. I'm quite certain that your presence alone could make any person lovable," Will answered, as their company's horses graced the threshold of Camelot's bordering fields. Not long now, and Merlin would meet his destiny for the first time.

Merlin did not have a reply to that, so he rode on in silence, taking in the views. The flowers were not yet in bloom. Winter had taken its toll on this land. The final clasps of chill still clung onto the air, desperately, futilely. Traces of snow could still be found, albeit scarcely, in the damp, squishy mud. Every horse's step made a sound like a sponge thrown against a wall.

The trees plotted around the edge of the field that trickled steadily into the forest were not yet sporting more than buds. The bark was still tough and the color still muted from stressful conditions of survival. Merlin had always loved the outdoors, the smell of cool air, the feeling of safety in open space, the sunlight on his pale skin.

Somehow, he couldn't enjoy it today as he normally would. He'd also heard tell of the Prince of Camelot. Arthur. A royal pain in the arse, in every sense of the phrase. He was the talk of any kingdom - of his growth as a swordsman, as a military leader. As a handsome man.

But he was still a prat. Merlin was sure of that. His brother-in-law and future king would be an absolute nightmare to deal with. Hot-headed. Nut case. Total arrogant twat. It didn't matter how good-looking the rumors painted him to be. It meant nothing if the man was a pig. Absolutely nothing.

Nothing.

Just as suddenly as the kingdom had appeared, its gates were upon Merlin. Two knights stood on either side, trumpeting so loudly that Merlin could feel it hit his eardrums, bounce back out, and then pound them again for round two. He tried to keep his face as pleasant as possible.

The entire royal court was awaiting their arrival. Merlin had to wonder how long they had all been standing there. Had it been an all-morning occasion, or had they hastily assembled the moment Merlin and his entourage had reached the edge of their sentinels' field of vision? Were several of them still running around with their breeches half-fastened, trying to get into place before Merlin trotted elegantly into the courtyard?

The first person he saw had to be Prince Arthur. No one else could be so good-looking. Er, no one else could be dressed so royally without being crowned prince. As soon as Merlin's horse slowed to a stop, the Prince of Camelot was upon him, golden hair shining as though he were some sort of angel in the mid-morning sun. Prince Arthur extended his hands to Merlin, an obvious invitation as help to dismount his steed.

"Prince Merlin. I'm pleased to meet your acquaintance," Arthur said, though his voice sounded reserved. He clearly wasn't pleased to meet this new brother-in-law of his.

Merlin did not exactly graciously accept. He hopped down without so much as touching Arthur. Arthur seemed slightly confused by this. Merlin remembered every single polite introduction that his mother had drilled into his head. Somehow, though, all he said was, "My horse will need watering. It was a long journey."

Arthur looked slightly taken aback, though quickly and coolly covered it with a mask. "Yes. Er, we shall see that taken care of. Camelot has a wonderful host of serving staff. I trust that, otherwise, your journey was not too hard?" he asked, like a petulant child being told to apologize without feeling any remorse. He was rocking slightly on his heels. Merlin surveyed him with mild contempt.

"No," he said simply. It was at that moment that the King, Uther Pendragon, stepped forward.

"Prince Merlin. It is such a pleasure to finally meet you. A shame that it has taken all of these years," he said, smiling courteously.

Merlin didn't know where his manners appeared from, but a genuinely friendly smile graced his features as well. "I agree. I've heard of great deeds coming from Camelot. The Kingdom of Ealdor is quite impressed with the peace you've been maintaining throughout the land," Merlin answered. "It is an honor to be here."

He glanced at Arthur, who was making a face when he thought that Merlin was not looking. It appeared as though he was totally, obnoxiously puzzled as to why Merlin would be kind to Uther but not to him. As soon as he caught Merlin looking, his face snapped back to blank. Merlin almost found it comical.

"And it is an honor that you are staying. We have heard of your greatness, both in accomplishments and deeds. If even half are true, I am very impressed," Uther said. "Yes, I have no doubt that you are a fine sorcerer."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't do as a brawny mass of hulking steel with no brain in my thoughtless head," Merlin said pleasantly, and he shot another glance at Arthur, who seemed absolutely determined not to hear this. He was gazing off into the distance, at the far wall of the courtyard. Uther laughed good-naturedly and opened his arms wide in a sweeping, welcoming gesture.

"I'm only sorry that your mother and father will not be joining us until tomorrow. It would be nice to see Balinor again. I feel as though I still owe him a great debt for the favors he has done for me over these many years," Uther continued, as he led Merlin up to the white stone steps, where the rest of his family was waiting.

"I'm sure my father views them as no more than an act of kindness to a loyal friend," said Merlin sweetly, as he bowed lightly to the Queen, Ygraine. She smiled serenely as he placed a light kiss on her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, your Highness."

"The pleasure is all mine. I am sure you will fit in here, Prince Merlin," she replied, her beautiful face seeming to glow with the kindness she offered. Yes, Merlin was quite sure, he would enjoy her company. "And my daughter, Princess Morgana."

The Queen gestured to her left, where a woman much taller and darker of hair stood. She looked less kind, but no less beautiful. "Pleased to meet you, Prince Merlin," she said simply.

Merlin's hands began sweating slightly. This woman was a future Queen. Merlin could not see himself by her side. Besides the obvious reason. She was too powerful. She knew how to behave, what to wear, how to speak her mind, how to present herself. Merlin knew none of those things. On a lucky day, he could smile enough that people thought he was passably nice.

"I look forward to getting to know you in the coming days, my Lady," Merlin said, and he kissed her hand as well. She didn't look extremely impressed, behind her well-put-on noble act. Merlin could tell.

"Well, I'm sure you would," the King said. "But, for the time being, I think it would be better if you were to spend some time with my son, Prince Arthur."

Merlin looked back at King Uther. "Prince Arthur?" he asked, incredibly confused.

"Oh dear," muttered Ygraine suddenly. Merlin's gaze snapped to her. Suddenly, everything felt incredibly awkward. She turned to her daughter. "Morgana, perhaps you should retire now to your chambers."

Morgana looked bemused, but nonetheless nodded and said to her mother, "Alright..." She retreated up the steps as a few servants around them began to disperse. Merlin's horse was already being catered to, so he couldn't hop on her and ride back to Ealdor. He turned back to Ygraine.

"Prince Merlin, I can see that you may be confused," she said kindly, but to Merlin, it just felt condescending. "The marriage we have been planning between the kingdoms would be between you and... Prince Arthur. Not Princess Morgana. Surely your mother and father told you this?"

Merlin couldn't hide the shock on his face, so he didn't bother trying. He looked behind him, at the Prince still standing in the courtyard, speaking to one of his knights. He looked back at Queen Ygraine. "Oh," he said. "Um. No. They didn't. Sorry."

The King broke the silence with an awkward, "Of course. Ahem. Well, Prince Merlin, perhaps you should be taken to your chambers. I'm sure the ride here has been very trying for you."

"Yes, of course," said Merlin, desperate to get out of there.

"Arthur!" called King Uther, over Merlin's head. Merlin nearly flinched. The Queen looked remorseful beyond possibility. Merlin glanced over his shoulder, at the reluctant Prince making his way over looking like a foul stench was stuck in his nose.

"Yes, father?" he bit out humbly, ignoring Merlin as though the space he inhabited was entirely blank.

"Perhaps you should show Prince Merlin to his chambers," the King suggested, tactless. There was not a single person in the gathering who wanted to be there.

The Queen inputted, "Or perhaps George could-"

"Of course," Prince Arthur interrupted, still only looking at the space ahead of him. Merlin's face was a deep red. He was glad Prince Arthur wasn't looking at him. But then he was, suddenly. A deep blue set of eyes gazing into Merlin's own with slight annoyance, but also giving the appearance of an entire wall between them. Merlin's expression was no kinder. "If you'll follow me."

Merlin said nothing sarcastic, as he was still under the gaze of the King and Queen. "Of course," he said, stiffly. Without another word, Prince Arthur swept dramatically out of the courtyard and up the steps, his cape billowing behind him, and Merlin trailing after. They fell into step as they turned into the first corridor.

There was a moment of awkward silence as Merlin fought desperately for something to say. He was just thankful that the Prince hadn't seen that frankly appalling stain made on Merlin's dignity a moment ago. Finally, Prince Arthur spoke.

"I trust you'll be joining us at the banquet tonight?"

"I will," Merlin answered, almost too quickly. They couldn't seem to find a common ground for their interactions. Merlin was entirely thrown off. "Er, um. Thanks. For... taking care of my horse."

"It's no trouble," said Prince Arthur, like a rather large stick was very painfully lodged up his backside. "We strive to make our guests feel comfortable."

"I'm sure I will be," Merlin said, suddenly sorry that he had got off on the wrong foot with Prince Arthur. That didn't mean that Merlin was a fan of his attitude. There was another silence as they reached a staircase, their footsteps the only sound, echoing off the walls and bouncing around them, so that two men sounded like twenty.

"We have plenty of servants, if you're in ne-"

"Oh, no, I brought my own," Merlin said hastily, fumbling with his words. "Will, he's called... He doesn't have magic."

Merlin glanced over at the Prince just in time to see something like... fear... jump behind his blue eyes. Was Arthur scared of sorcery? Of Merlin? How could he be?

"I hear that you yourself are a great sorcerer," Prince Arthur said, though his words were still as frigid as the air outside. "There are many legends of your destiny."

Merlin nodded. "I hope that doesn't, er, deter you," he said weakly. "I promise that-"

"Why would that deter me?" Prince Arthur asked, as they reached the top of the stairs. His tone was now entirely cold. Merlin had no answer.

"I - I don't know," he said. He could only wonder how much farther in this great castle he would have to walk before he could breathe again, without the Prince of Anger striding dutifully next to him, staring ahead at the wall as though his gaze could bore holes in it.

"I... hope you will join me for a walk about the castle later this evening," Arthur said, as though he were saying the words with the edge of a sword pressed to his throat. "Before the feast."

"Well, if it's as socially stimulating as this one, how can I say no?" Merlin said, a desperate attempt to lighten the mood. Prince Arthur didn't laugh. Merlin was absolutely beginning to panic over his future. There was no way he could marry Prince Arthur. But, if he had to, they would need to break the ice sooner rather than later. In a split second, he made his decision. "Erm, of course."

"Excellent," the Prince replied, as though he had just watched a group of his knights be brutally slaughtered. It was at this point that Merlin decided to take the dagger on himself.

"I'm, er, sorry if I offended you this morning," he said. "It's been a strange day, truthfully."

"These are you chambers," said the Prince abruptly, stopping outside a set of dark wood double doors. "I'll be by in the early afternoon. You should probably get changed by then." His gaze slid up and down Merlin with a more-than-mild reproachful look.

"Right," Merlin answered. "Then I suppose you should work on getting that stick wedged out of your arse as well. See you then. Thanks."

Merlin opened the door and made as suave an exit as he could ever have hoped to make in his life. He appreciated the dark feeling that shot up inside him, at the thought of Prince Arthur still standing outside of his door, the butt of the joke. Merlin was all too content to leave him there. Maybe that would teach the prat some manners.

"So? Any truth to the rumors?" came a voice from inside the room. Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin. As he turned, he saw Will smoothing out the blue bed dressings. The entire room seemed to be themed in blue, interrupted only by the occasional spread of white in the curtains or furniture.

"The rumors?" Merlin asked, walking further into the room. The windows were blown open, as he liked them, so the fresh breeze could give the room natural temperature and scent.

"About Prince Arthur. If I may ask," Will said, with a shrug. He took to unpacking Merlin's suitcase into the white wardrobe at the room's wall.

"He's certainly got a way with words," Merlin said. That simple phrase broke the dam. "I'm not sure I have ever met a more unpleasant person! The entire time he didn't look at me once, and he sounded like he would rather be eating his own sword. Honestly, the rumors don't do him justice. He's worse. If I have to marry him - ! I think I would rather die alone. Honestly. I would rather that I never caught fancy of anyone in my entire life. Still not certain I have."

Will's eyes were wide. "The Prince? I thought you were to marry Princess Morgana!" he said, and began unpacking with more excitement.

"So did I!" said Merlin shrilly. "But the pair of them, both are just terrible! I'm starting to miss Princess Elena..."

"She was quite beautiful..." said Will, in a daze. Almost at once, he snapped out of it. "But, it is... good, though? That it turned out to be the Prince?"

"Any other Prince would've been marvelous!" Merlin complained. "But Arthur is quite atrocious. The fact that he's a boy does scarce to make matters any better."

"So what are you going to do?" Will asked.

"Well, I can't marry that prat. no way. No way in hell," Merlin answered vehemently. There was stiff silence for a moment.

"What... what if your mother and father make you?" Will asked. "What if you have no choice?"

"You know me, Will," Merlin said quietly. "Nobody can make me do a thing I don't want to."

"Which is why I've always considered myself quite lucky that I'm on your good side," Will said, apparently all concern for Merlin's entire future dropped with that one assurance.

 

\+ + +

 

A knock on the door sounded, and Merlin gazed at himself in the long mirror. "What do you think?" he asked Will absently. It was a thread-design, dark blue tunic over black breeches, his leather boots drawn up and polished, a dark jacket draped over his shoulders, accompanied by a neckerchief that his mother and father could never get him to abandon.

"You look quite presentable, my lord," Will answered smartly. "If the Prince has any sense, he won't be able to resist you."

"We both know he has no sense, though," Merlin huffed. Will gave a good laugh, one of his many redeeming qualities. It might have just been because Merlin was the Prince, though.

"Shan't keep him waiting, though," Will said, and he went to the door, as Merlin stared at himself for one moment more.

"I'm here for Prince Merlin," said a drawling voice from the door. Prince Arthur. He sounded almost as happy to be here as he had that morning. Merlin gave a deep sigh. Perhaps he could just enchant the Prince into a good mood. That would solve everyone's problems.

"My lord," Will called from the doorway, "Prince Arthur calls for you."

"Yes, alright," said Merlin, but, for good measure, loitered a moment to fix his neckerchief. It was the first thing to get the stink eye as soon as Merlin was in Prince Arthur's range of sight. Then, slowly, the rest of his body, as the Prince's eyes raked thoroughly over it.

"Good afternoon," he said.

"Sure to be," said Merlin tautly, then scooted out the door and shut it behind him. Prince Arthur did not look impressed. "So, what fun activities did you have planned today? Skulking about the gardens? Scowling at the royal pets? Kicking the children in the lower town?"

"I was actually just thinking we could get to know each other," said Prince Arthur sourly.

"What's the point?" Merlin asked. "I think you've made your feelings quite clear already - you want nothing to do with me."

"What I want has never mattered. Let's just get on with it," Prince Arthur replied. Merlin was now quite sure that he was entirely right. He had never met another person so unpleasant. And he had had more than enough encounters with bandits, thieves, and murderers.

"They should really call you Prince Charming," Merlin enthused.

Prince Arthur sighed as they turned and walked into the corridor. A pair of guards flashed past in the bisecting hallways at the end. "Despite what you may think, Prince Merlin, I do actually want this arrangement to work out between us," the Prince said.

Merlin outright laughed. "You could've fooled me."

"Yes, but I suspect that's not very hard," the Prince deadpanned. He still refused to look at Merlin.

"Look, Arthur, whatever I've done to offend you-"

"You haven't done anything," Prince Arthur cut off. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. I'm-"

"Oh really? Because you're stomping about like a child as though I've offended you," Merlin said. The Prince finally glanced at him, as they turned left, into a corridor that overhung a small field of grass. The wall was cut so that they could look down on the scene, though there was no glass instilled in the holes. A group of knights seemed to be training on the field.

"I'm not the only one who can't seem to get along with the other," Prince Arthur said hotly.

"I'm trying!"

"And I've told you I am too!"

The Prince looked down at the knights training on the field and quietly stopped. Merlin, confused, stopped as well, a bit further ahead, because he hadn't been expecting it. And why did Prince Arthur suddenly look so miserable? Merlin couldn't have made him feel that bad.

Then, suddenly, the Prince kept walking as though nothing had happened. He didn't say anything, however, so Merlin pursued the topic.

"Why did you stop?" he asked. "Was it me?"

The Prince turned around full force. "No, Merlin. It wasn't you! Can't we just get on with this?" he yelled.

"I don't understand why you're being like this," Merlin said, shaking his head. "Fine, if you don't want to go through with this marriage, we won't. But if it isn't me that's making you behave this way, then I certainly hope this isn't your normal attitude."

For once, the Prince said nothing. He looked like he wanted to, though. So Merlin pressed the subject again.  
  


"What is it?"

Again, nothing. But suddenly, all of the evidence seemed to explode in front of him. The angry looks. The resentment.

"You're in love with another."

The Prince looked at Merlin with something so dangerous in his eyes that for a moment Merlin felt his magic flare defensively within him. And then Prince Arthur sighed, dropped his shoulders, and looked out onto the field. With a nod, he indicated a serving girl who was folding laundry, looking on at the pair of knights clashing swords.

"Her name is Guinevere," he said softly, his voice mutinous. "But her heart belongs to another."

At that moment, the pair of knights broke apart. Time had been called. Guinevere stood and hurried over to one of them, as he took off his helmet. Arthur averted his eyes just before they kissed. Merlin felt a bud of pity within himself.

"Would you like to call it a night?" Merlin offered softly. The Prince didn't answer, but Merlin took his silence for one. "I'll see you at the feast."

With that, he turned on his heel and left Arthur to stare over the balcony in his misery, the both of them unsure how to feel.

 

\+ + +

 

A knock on the door came just as Merlin was finishing his preparations for the feast. He hoped against all hope that it wasn't Prince Arthur. And it wasn't. Merlin peered over his shoulder, and Will stepped back to reveal an old man entering the room.

"My lord," he said humbly. "I don't suppose you remember me, but-"

"Gaius!" said Merlin excitedly. He was beaming. An old (in both senses of the word) face was just what Merlin needed at the moment. He nearly tripped over himself going to give the old man a hug. "You studied for some time in Ealdor. How could I forget? And, please, don't worry about formalities. It feels strange. Just call me Merlin."

Gaius bowed his head. "I am sorry that your mother and father are not here yet. I'd be pleased to see them again," he said.

Merlin was still beaming. "I'm sure they feel the same," he said. "But they'll be here tomorrow, and the next few days. I had no idea you came to Camelot after you left. I often wondered what had happened to you. What are you doing here?"

"A physician's work is always needed," Gaius said simply, with a small shrug.

"Oh," said Merlin clumsily. "No, I actually meant... in my chambers..."

"Ah, yes, of course," said Gaius, seemingly nonplussed. "I merely wished to see what's become of you. After all, you were no more than a child the last time I saw you."

"I still like to believe I could pass as one." Merlin shrugged. He and Gaius shared a chuckle. "I'm certainly thin enough. How are you, Gaius?"

"Very well, Merlin, very well. And you?" Gaius returned.

"I...'ve been better," Merlin admitted, breathing out a laugh. Gaius's wrinkled forehead wrinkled further in confusion. At Gaius's puzzled look, he continued, "Prince Arthur doesn't seem to be taking to me very well. Which I can understand, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. He's not exactly being either subtle or nice about it."

"Really?" Gaius seemed genuinely surprised. "That doesn't sound like the Prince Arthur I know. Growing up, he was always courteous and welcoming to even the rudest of royalty. I can't imagine why he would behave this way toward you."

Merlin flashed back to the moment he had seen Arthur look at Guinevere, at the way his face had seemed so empty. All he said to Gaius was, "Perhaps this is different because we were going to be married."

"Perhaps," Gaius said, and then his brain caught up with Merlin's words. "What do you mean going to be? Are you not still?"

Merlin shook his head, smiling as kindly at Gaius as he could manage. "No... No, Arthur doesn't like me. It's easier on all of us if we decline this marriage and-"

"Well I doubt that either of your parents will be happy to hear this news, Merlin," said Gaius, taking on a very fatherly tone. "You should consider the good of the kingdom, too."

"The good of the kingdom? Arthur hates me," Merlin said passionately. "He wouldn't marry me if it meant eternal peace throughout the land."

"Well, I doubt that's true," said Gaius. "And, in any case, that's not what you have to worry about right now."

"Oh? And what do I have to worry about, Gaius?" Merlin asked, looking at the older man with vivacious curiosity. What could Gaius possibly know about being a Prince? How did he expect to advise Merlin on these matters?

"Getting to the feast on time."

 

\+ + +

 

"Damn it, Arthur! We have customs! For the last time-"

"Why not have him marry Morgana instead, Father? Leastways someone might be happy with the arrangement."

"You're wrong. I'm very happy with it right now. This will ensure peace between our two kingdoms. Furthermore, if Prince Merlin and Morgana were to be married, they would have a chance to conceive. Though we tolerate the old ways in this kingdom, I will not have a Pendragon born of magic. That's an end to this discussion! We have a feast to prepare for, which the guests will be arriving for any minute."

"But Father-"

"Not another word. And you will marry Prince Merlin. Whether you like it or not. I trust you'll be coming to me on the morrow to discuss the means of your proposal, after we've met with King Balinor and Queen Hunith."

Merlin knew he shouldn't have been listening at the door, but Gaius had made him hurry to the feast and so he had arrived much too early and... well, he couldn't exactly stop his ears from working. He stood uncertainly in front of the door for a moment, shifting precariously on his feet, just as he heard the even hitting of footfalls on stone floor. Someone was coming toward the door. And Merlin was just standing there like an idiot.

Before he could think, the wood flew open. Prince Arthur was staring at him, entirely taken aback at the sight. "Prince M-"

"Hi. Am I too early for the feast?" Merlin asked pointedly. He was determined to seem ignorant. Hopefully, given their social history, Arthur would buy it.

"Of course not," came King Uther's commanding voice from within the room. "Please, enter, Prince Merlin."

Merlin gave an awkward smile, though he had certainly lost a severe amount of respect for the King. He made a quick walk past Arthur, head down, and walked into the hall.

"I trust you've had a pleasant first day with us?" asked the King, as he appointed Merlin to his proper seat at the head table. From across the room, Merlin saw Arthur look up and stare dramatically at Merlin, as though expecting Merlin to be so childish as to tattle on him.

"Very pleasant," Merlin affirmed. That was when several servants dashed in, carrying several trays of food, and Merlin was able to relax slightly. The awkward tension began to ebb away. Arthur still had not joined them at the head table. He wasn't doing much of anything, other than staring out the door now that Merlin hadn't gotten him into further trouble.

The next few moments were filled with idle chitchat as the hall filled with guests, and Merlin met some of Camelot's most prestigious residents. He was glad for the distraction.

Merlin was seated at the high table, between Arthur and the edge of the table. After Arthur was King Uther, then Queen Ygraine, and lastly Princess Morgana. Arthur sat next to Merlin as though petrified for the first ten minutes of the banquet. Merlin pretended not to notice when King Uther whispered maliciously that Arthur needed to court Merlin if he wanted to maintain all of his normal privileges. Merlin commented on how lovely the roast pork was.

"Er, are you... enjoying yourself?" Arthur asked. Merlin tried to pretend that he did not notice the King surreptitiously observing them.

He had many answers to this question. A lot of confusing answers raced through his mind at an incredibly high velocity. The ultimate, carefully thought out answer was. "Yes... For the moment. I feel like I've learned a lot about... our two kingdoms... today. I had no idea what hardships Camelot faced. I think I can... appreciate... and respect Camelot... more now. Truly, your kingdom has stood up very well to such taxing trials."

Arthur looked at Merlin like he understood. There was a brief pause before he slowly answered, "Thank you. I'm sure there is more that I can learn about... Ealdor, as well. I've heard that Ealdor is very... er... nice."

Merlin nodded and took a bite of bread.

"But just because Camelot has faced trials and looks good doesn't mean it can be a prat." He hoped that King Uther hadn't heard that one, despite Arthur nearly choking on his wine.

 

\+ + +

 

"Arthur, I think you ought to escort Prince Merlin back to his chambers," Uther suggested sternly, as the banquet began to wear itself thin. The guests were drowsy and full, talking amicably among themselves.

"Right. Prince Merlin?" said Arthur, not as sourly as he might have done a few hours previously. He stood and offered Merlin his hand, which Merlin took, and guided him from the hall. Upon their exit, both princes gave a sigh of relief.

"Thank you," said Merlin, as the door clanged shut behind them.

"Let's just... not, alright? We both know that you heard what my father said to me just before the banquet-"

"And I meant what I said during the banquet," Merlin said. "About Camelot."

Arthur rocked back and forth on his feet. "I couldn't be more grateful for the kindness you've shown me."

"And it doesn't stop there," Merlin said, surprising himself and Arthur. "I don't think we should be married."

Arthur's steps faltered. "What?" he asked. Merlin couldn't tell if his voice sounded hopeful or scared. He, too, stopped walking.

"I think we should play the part for your father, for the duration of my stay," Merlin said, nearly regretting the words, "and then call off the wedding. It's clear that you're unhappy with this arrangement, and that I could find someone else."

"My father would never allow me to call off the marriage," said Arthur sullenly. Merlin's chest twinged.

"Did I not mention that part? I'll be the one to respectfully call it off. My parents and yours can sign their treaty. We can carefully avoid the subject of the wedding as best we can. When the time comes, I'll say no," Merlin offered. Arthur was silent, the two of them still standing in the corridor.

"Why would you do that?" he asked. "You would risk the peace of our kingdoms-"

"I'm not risking anything. The peace will be set. We don't love each other, Arthur. It's fine." Merlin turned his back and started walking toward his chamber. He didn't want to have this discussion any longer. Something within him was aching, gnawing for freedom.

Arthur's footsteps followed him as a pair of guards stalked past the perpendicular corridor. "I can't thank you enough for this, Merlin," Arthur said quickly. "And, just as you meant what you said about Camelot, I meant what I said about... Ealdor. You are truly a kind soul. I am sorry to have treated you the way I did."

Arthur's hand caught Merlin's wrist just outside the door to his chambers. Merlin turned, planting on a convincing smile. He had nothing to say that wouldn't be a lie, so he simply held Arthur's shining gaze. When Arthur turned, Merlin called after him, "Thank you, Camelot."

Arthur turned back around and gave Merlin the first smile Merlin had seen on his face. "Thank you, Ealdor." He turned the corner and disappeared. Merlin opened the door with his hip and slumped inside, feeling much more downtrodden than he would have expected after a conversation with Arthur going so well.

Will was waiting inside. "How did it go, Sire?" he asked. A pile of Merlin's sleepwear lay on the bed.

"Much better than it could have. Arthur no longer hates me," Merlin said glumly.

"That's wonderful!" Will exclaimed, hurrying over with Merlin's tunic. "So, the wedding is to move forward, then?"

Merlin considered Will, contemplating on whether or not he would be able to lie to his best friend. Almost as once, he decided, "No. It's not."

Will's face fell. "Why not?" he asked. He began to help Merlin out of his shirt. Merlin complied, his limbs sagging from the unknown source of this sad feeling.

"Because... we do not love each other," Merlin answered simply. It was as much as he was willing to go into the subject for now, when he was so tired.

"But your parents-"

"You're not to speak a word of this to anyone," Merlin ordered sharply. "As far as anyone but you, I, or Arthur is aware, the wedding is going to continue as planned. And that's all I'm going to tell you."

Will seemed put off by the restriction. "Yes, Sire," he said nonetheless, as he continued getting Merlin ready for bed.

 

\+ + +

 

Merlin stood in the bright morning sun, his crown weighing down his hair, his blue and black ensemble hugging his figure annoyingly with his newfound terrible mood. The sentinels had spotted his mother and father making their way over the hill. At least that was some good news.

Arthur was on the other side of the courtyard, looking exceptionally more radiant than he had the day before. Merlin's bad mood worsened. When he caught sight of Merlin, he quickly jogged over, under the King's eye.

"A picnic today?" he asked, shooting his father a look of obedience. "I won't take no for an answer."

Merlin surmised the situation and gave a quick nod. Arthur seemed satisfied and walked back to his previous position, back straight and expression pleased. Merlin reminded himself that this was an act.

His mother and father came riding through the gates shortly after, elegant and poised as ever. Merlin had never felt more inadequate. The sight of them, however, was more than welcome. He hugged them tightly on their dismount, eyes closed and sucking in a large breath. When he opened his eyes, Arthur was looking at him curiously. Merlin looked away. He didn't want to see Arthur.

"I see you've settled in," Merlin's mother commented serenely. Her voice was like a soothing music. Merlin was incapable of speech. "You have things on your mind. Be patient, and we'll talk as soon as we can."

That was when King Uther appeared at their side and greeted the both of Merlin's parents heartily. The routine coincided heavily with the one from yesterday. Before long, Merlin's mother and father were joining him in his room, and he was recounting all that had happened. So much for keeping secret the plans of not going through with the wedding. They never once interrupted, just sat and listened patiently, waiting for Merlin to finish. When he did, Hunith spoke immediately.

"My brave boy," she encouraged. "I have never once doubted the strength of your heart. You and Prince Arthur have only just met. If it is meant to be, then it will come to pass."

"Son, I have not known a single force in this world that I would consider strong enough to knock you down," Balinor said. "If you think that love will strike you, know that ten times the amount used against you will be there to catch you, from your mother and I."

Merlin looked at the floor. "I don't want to love him, if he doesn't love me. Why doesn't Guinevere love him that way? He's a prince. She must be mad."

"Prince Arthur must be the one who is mad, to not see what is right in front of him," Hunith corrected. "But if you choose not to marry him, Camelot and Ealdor will find a way to ensure peace."

"So long as Uther doesn't plan another feeble attack against sorcery," contributed Balinor, rolling his eyes. They glowed faintly, and a sound of tinkling was heard as the pitcher on the windowsill tipped itself ever so slightly and poured a glass full of water. The glass found its way to Merlin of its own accord.

"The reason he selected Arthur instead of Princess Morgana was so that Camelot would not have an heir of magic. I think he's hoping that Morgana will be the one to continue Pendragon lineage," Merlin supplied.

"I figured as much," Balinor said. "I don't necessarily have a problem with it. It seems that your decision gives us nothing to worry about in the first place."

"Will you be coming to the feast tonight?" Hunith asked her son. "You mustn't feel obliged. If you don't wish to see Prince Arthur, we will make your excuses."

Merlin thought about it. He didn't know what he would do if Arthur tried to speak to him. In truth, he didn't want to find out. He nodded. "I'll have Will bring me something from the kitchens. Thank you."

His mother brought Merlin's head to her shoulder. He had to stoop considerably, but it was not uncomfortable. Her presence had always been a consistent comfort to him.

Later, when he knew that the picnic was just moments away, he childishly wished he had asked her to stay with him.

Arthur knocked on the door as Merlin was straightening his tunic. Will crossed the room and let him in. Arthur was beaming, wearing a Camelot tunic and leather jacket.

"Ealdor. Pleased to see you can clean up. Even if you are still wearing that hideous thing 'round your neck," Arthur said, eyes wide.

"Could say the same to you - sporting a dragon on your shirt when you don't even have the best breed of dragon locally. I'll have to take you dragon spotting on our honeymoon," Merlin quipped humorlessly.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but Pen _dragon_. It's literally in my name," Arthur retorted, raising his eyebrows lazily.

"Right, and you know just as much about using a pen as you do about dragons. Are we going on a picnic or what?" Merlin asked pleasantly. Arthur rolled his eyes and smiled.

"We're going on a picnic," he answered. "Come." He beckoned Merlin out.  When they were out in the corridor, Merlin was face-to-face with the alien feeling of Arthur's hand on his forearm.

"I don't suppose you'll tell me where we're having said picnic?" Merlin asked. He didn't move Arthur's hand.

"Do you pick me out as the type to give surprises?" Arthur questioned. There was a jovial bounce to his step.

"I certainly pick you out as the type who likes to have the upper hand."

Arthur laughed. "We've treated your horse very well," he said. "You'll be riding her for a short journey. Camelot is a very beautiful place. There's somewhere very lovely, not far from the lower town, that I would like to show you. That's as much as I'm going to say."

"Well, if there's anything to be said for Camelot, I guess it's that they treat the horses better than the guests," Merlin laughed.

"While I do like for it to be said that we do treat our animals with great care, I hope that perhaps I can change your mind about the guest part if all goes well today,"Arthur said.

The horse ride was indeed very quick. Merlin had hardly any time to poke fun at how much Arthur's horse seemed to disobey his master. Arthur did not seem disappointed by this. When they arrived, Merlin understood what Arthur meant by beautiful. Truly, the scene before him was breathtaking.

"Arthur..." Merlin sighed. He was frozen on his horse, staring about him in awe. Arthur seemed very pleased by his sudden speechlessness.

"I told you," he said simply.

The trees in the forest surrounding them were tall but unobtrusive. There was a small waterfall that dipped off into a singing pond. Several rocks bordered the water, and it was here that a clean, smooth blanket was laid out. The sunlight was hitting this place with a beauty that transcended every previous conception Merlin had held about nature. The grass grew thickly and luxuriously, dotted with flowers in spurts of pleasing colors. Merlin couldn't take his eyes off of every new beauty that jumped out at him.

"I think all will go well," he stuttered out weakly.

"I just thought we ought to have some time alone before the feast tonight," Arthur said. He then acted like he had caught himself slacking off. "Ah, so that my father doesn't criticize every move I make. You understand."

"Right," Merlin said. "The feast. Tonight. Yes."

 

\+ + +

 

Will had brought him a diverse plate of eloquent dishes, and then, at Merlin's request, had left him be. For a while, Merlin lay on the bed, gazing out the window, pecking at the food next to him. He was still wearing the clothes from earlier and thinking about the picnic.

After he had decided to quit nibbling when he wasn't hungry, Merlin moved to the windowsill to get a better view of the jovially lit city below. Camelot was stunningly beautiful, especially at night. The afternoon had given him a new appreciation for all aspects of the kingdom. Merlin was hit with a pang of sadness as he realized that he could get used to it quite easily. After all, it wasn't so different from the kingdom of Ealdor.

A knock on the door made him startled and alert. He almost tripped over his own heel on his conquest to answer it without Will. Arthur was standing there, looking curious and suspicious.

"Arthur," Merlin announced in surprise.

"We were all missing you at the feast," Arthur said, not like a greeting. "I thought I'd check in on you. It's not often that someone avoids a banquet held in their honor."

"In my parents' honor," Merlin said. He backed away from the door and returned to the windowsill, too emotionally drained to deny Arthur entry. "I'm not avoiding it. I'm quite ill."

"Quite," Arthur agreed. He obviously didn't buy a word of it. "You know, you're not as secretive as you might think."

"I'm an open book," Merlin replied dully.

"Then, I hope you'll tell me what's bothering you," Arthur said directly. "If I've offended you in any way, please accept my sincerest apologies. After everything you've offered to do for me, I wouldn't wish you any h-"

"Stop," Merlin snapped angrily. Everything was offense and apologies and angst. Merlin was sick of it. Arthur cut off more from shock than obedience.

"Merlin?"

"Don't... do that," Merlin ordered testily.

"I'm... sorry?" Arthur guessed. "It won't happen again. Is there anything I can get for y-"

"Stop that," Merlin groaned, turning around again. He was facing Arthur, but not looking at him; instead, Merlin gestured to him and looked angrily at the air around him. "Stop being nice and considerate to me. If you had stayed a prattish clotpole, agreeing not to marry you wouldn't be so hard on me!"

A silence fell between them, Merlin's chest heaving and his eyes feeling heavy.

"Ah," Arthur mumbled stiffly. "I see."

"Forget I said anythi-"

"I'm a Prince, Merlin, you can't tell me what to do," Arthur said, shaking his head as if this was a joke.

"I'm a Prince too, so yes I can."

Merlin turned back to the windowsill and shoved a hand through his hair. Camelot suddenly appeared cold and menacing. He wanted nothing more than to leave.

"It's my Kingdom," Arthur countered.

"Isn't it just," Merlin agreed. "A kingdom where nobody loves the right person. I should never have left Ealdor. Better a lonely heart than a broken one."

The room turned gloomy at the shift in the conversation's tone. Once again, Arthur let silence fall as he contemplated how to respond to that.

"I know all too well how you feel, Merlin," Arthur said softly. Once again, Merlin turned back to him, his eyes gingerly scanning Arthur's vulnerable face. "Gwen never preferred me over Lancelot, though she knew how I felt. Knows how I feel. And I would not wish the pain I have suffered at her hands on anyone. Not even my worst enemy. Therefore, Merlin, I especially feel that you do not deserve it. Chatterbox though you are." His lips quirked up where Merlin's did not. Merlin turned his head to the side and breathed an outward scoff at his own stupidity. He shouldn't have opened his clumsy mouth.

Arthur took two quick steps forward. "You don't deserve it," he reiterated, and pressed a chaste kiss to Merlin's lips.

Something like a small bubble expanded all throughout Merlin's chest in the span of one second. It filled him up and made him feel as though his feet had momentarily lifted off the ground. He wanted to grab Arthur by the tunic and pull him closer, prevent him from slipping away, but before Merlin really knew what had transpired, that was already happening. Arthur was stepping back and looking bashful.

"I... I'm sorry if that made it worse. I should have asked," Arthur said quietly. Behind his eyes, Merlin could see the longing for Gwen to do it to Arthur. Just one kiss, to sustain the emotions.

Merlin was still speechless. Arthur cleared his throat.

"Er. We're to go hunting tomorrow. My men and I. I was wondering if you'd like to join us."

Merlin's words were anything but deft. "I don't like hunting."

"Oh," said Arthur, from beneath poorly-cushioned surprise. "Right... Right. Well, then. Er, perhaps a ride through the woods. To keep up appearances."

Merlin cursed his own stupid idea. "To keep up appearances," he agreed. Arthur kissing him had made it better, at the least. Come morning, once he had calmed over it, he was sure that it would be worse. A taunt at what Merlin was giving up. At least he had what Arthur would never have with Guinevere.

"Excellent." Arthur cleared his throat again, looking almost indecisive. Merlin didn't dare to convince himself of it. "Thank you."

Merlin hoped that Arthur would kiss him again. But he had met hardly anything but disappointment in Camelot so far. That wasn't about to change.

"Arthur," Merlin said, before he could stop himself, and because he was hell-bent on his own ruination, "do you think there's any way... you might change your mind about... me...?"

Arthur regarded him with a careful, measured, and level gaze. His voice unwavering, he replied, "Stranger things have happened."

"But I shouldn't get my hopes up," Merlin surmised.

"You shouldn't wait on me like I'm the only thing in your life. You have an important decision coming up, Merlin," Arthur said. "I'm certainly not the most pressing thing happening to you. You should take a walk outside tomorrow morning while I'm out. Get to know the streets. Meet the citizens of Camelot. We're unlike any other kingdom in the world."

"I'll be sure to do that. But... Yesterday morning, I thought you would never like me, ever," Merlin confessed.

"Yesterday morning, I thought I was doomed to a boring and loveless marriage for the rest of my life," Arthur responded in kind. "I'm learning to read the signs life gives me in a different light. Good night, Prince Merlin."

"Good night, Camelot."

Arthur breathed a laugh as he walked out the door. Merlin didn't feel as bad as he thought he would to watch him go. At least the view was nice.

 

\+ + +

 

"Merlin, if you don't get out of bed, I'll tell Prince Arthur that you're moping about him not being around," Hunith threatened, tugging the curtains open for the third time that morning... afternoon.

"I'm not moping," said Merlin.

"And if I told you the hunting party had returned, you wouldn't jump out of bed and get dressed?"

"The hunting party isn't back yet. They won't return until early afternoon," Merlin dismissed, the side of his face pushed into the pillow.

"It _is_ early afternoon."

Merlin arched upward, relying on his lower stomach and elbows to keep his head up. "It isn't," he contradicted.

"Has been for nearly an hour. The first horse was sighted just before I came to get you," Hunith said lazily. "So need I call Will in here or not?"

"Yeah, where is he?" Merlin said quickly. He sat up on his knees and began tugging his night shirt off.

"I'll send him in," said Hunith knowingly. She walked out of the room with a sort of refined mockery. Merlin didn't care. He needed to get dressed.

Will came in not long after and helped to dress Merlin as quickly as their combined efforts would allow. It was a light green tunic and light trouser combo today. Merlin hurried down the corridors to the front courtyard before the sight of King Uther and Queen Ygraine talking to Sir Leon made Merlin's footsteps falter.

"What's going on?" he asked, perhaps overstepping his boundaries, but he had a terrible feeling that he couldn't dismiss.

"Nothing to worry about," King Uther said unsurely. Queen Ygraine stepped in, looking at Merlin fiercely.

"Prince Arthur has been wounded during his hunting trip," she said, and shot her husband a sideways glare. The King stared resolutely ahead. Sir Leon looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.

"What?" Merlin asked. His stomach had fallen out from between his feet. The floor had relinquished its duty to him. "Where is he?"

"Resting," Sir Leon inputted, glad of a purpose in this conversation. "He could not travel back to the kingdom in his condition. The rest of the knights are watching over him."

"We will send out-"

"Take me to him," Merlin ordered Sir Leon, cutting off the King's declaration. "I can do more than any physician or patrol. Bring me to him now."

"Prince Merlin, we could not possibly allow you to-"

A loud bang cut off Queen Ygraine. Merlin heard his mother's cry of distress from the end of the corridor. He was the first to being sprinting, the others close behind her. When he rounded the corner, his mother was lying in a heap at the bottom of a flight of stairs. For a brief moment, Merlin's heart stopped completely. But she looked at him, appearing completely unharmed, and gave him an obvious wink. The King, Queen, and Knight rounded the corner just then.

"Ohhhh," said Hunith thickly. "Help me, please..."

The King and Queen rushed to Hunith's side. Merlin realized then that this was his mother giving Merlin his chance. He rounded on Sir Leon.

"Take me to him now. I am to be your King. I order you to take me to him." And, well, if Merlin knew that he wouldn't actually be ruling over Sir Leon one day, he didn't have to tell that to the knight. Sir Leon bowed his head, somewhat reluctantly, and led Merlin out to the front courtyard, explaining all the while.

"We saw a deer. One of our knights' horses was startled by a snake and threw him off. His crossbow discharged, and the bolt embedded itself in the Prince's shoulder. The Prince is now in the forest, with the remainder of the hunting party to guard him. I left on the fastest horse to retrieve Gaius."

Merlin didn't respond. All he wanted to do was find Arthur, as fast as possible. He mounted the horse that had been prepared for Gaius and kicked off after Sir Leon.

Arthur couldn't be badly hurt. A crossbow bolt to the shoulder. Which shoulder? Not his left shoulder, surely. Merlin didn't hover on the thought, just spurred his horse on as fast as it could go.

"How was he when you saw him last?" he yelled to Sir Leon.

"Quite strong," Sir Leon assured Merlin. "I believe we have no reason to worry, so long as we get there in time."

"All the more reason to move faster, then," Merlin said so quietly, with the galloping of the horses lapping over it that it may as well have been to himself.

Arthur had to be okay. He had to be. He was a legendary fighter, and the crowned prince of Camelot. He had overcome much worse than this. How could he be stopped by something so trivial and accidental?

"Left here," Sir Leon said, as the path branched to the right. Merlin saw the opposing tracks of their route, evidence of Sir Leon's hurry to reach the castle. He saw a small pond, with a waterfall, surrounded by rocks and tall but unobtrusive trees. His heart hammered faster. In the distance, above the blanket of leaves on the horizon, he saw smoke and knew that must be where Arthur was. Without the need to keep pace with Sir Leon, he ushered the horse on the final stretch.

Before the horse had fully finished its slow, Merlin was dismounting and stumbling over to the anxious-looking knights. "Where is he?" he demanded, as Sir Leon cleared the pair of trees that declared entrance to the camp.

Sir Gwaine flagged up a hand. He was squatting next to Arthur, who was lying still and pale next to the fire. "Here," he called. Merlin sprinted the distance, landing in a harsh slide to kneel next to his prince.

The wound was not as bad as it looked. Merlin had seen worse. Still, the fact that it was Arthur made his hands shake and his breath quicken.

"I thought Sir Leon was bringing back a physician," Sir Gwaine said.

"I'm better than any physician," Merlin muttered, not taking his eyes from Arthur. "Have you given him anything since it happened?"

"Nothing," Sir Gwaine answered. "We brought him straight here."

"I need water," Merlin ordered.

"Percival!" Sir Gwaine called over Merlin. "Water!"

Merlin ran his fingers around the entry of the wound, the bolt still embedded in Arthur's right shoulder. Deftly, he pulled a strip from the hem of his own shirt and spread it around the base of the bolt. Breathing heavily, sweating profusely, he gave a swift pull and dislodged the bolt from Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur startled awake with a pained shout. He struggled upwards, but both Merlin and Gwaine kept a hand on his chest to force him down again. With his free hand, Merlin enclosed the cloth to keep as much blood as possible from escaping the wound.

"Get back," he ordered Gwaine, as Arthur muttered something incomprehensible. "Shh," Merlin told him soothingly. "Keep still. It's alright. Keep still. Just give me one minute. Endure for one minute, okay, Arthur? Just one minute..."

Merlin knew the spell. It felt warm and familiar on his tongue, even though most of his body felt cold with worry and vicarious guilt. The words were sweet and calm, delicate but rushed. He felt the thrum inside of him, fluctuating throughout his body, coursing through his veins more powerfully than any blood he had ever known-

Arthur's lips parted as he began to pant. His eyes swiveled wearily but did their best to focus on Merlin. Merlin let out a harsh, relieved breath. Already, he could see the faintest of color returning to Arthur's skin.

"You're alright," Merlin said quickly. Sir Percival squatted next to Merlin and handed him water. Merlin thanked him and did his best to administer the water to Arthur without disturbing his position.

"You saved my life..." Arthur croaked in astonishment.

"No need to thank me," Merlin answered, rolling his eyes. "Good to know your brain is still working as well as it did before."

"'Course it is. It was only a scratch..."

"You need to rest," Merlin said, regaining his sense of sobriety.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur asked weakly. "You should be in Camelot..."

"Sir Leon told me what happened to you," Merlin explained. "I came as quickly as I could. I thought I would be able to do more than Gaius. Magic's cheating, but it's okay if you cheat in someone else's favor."

"What did happen?" Arthur asked.

"A crossbow bolt. One of your men fell off their horse and accidentally discharged it," Merlin said. "You need to rest."

"I'm a prince, Merlin. You can't tell me what to do," Arthur breathed, rolling his head to the side so that he was looking up at the sky now.

"Yes I can, I'm a prince too. Get some rest."

 

\+ + +

 

"My lord, your horse is watered and ready," Sir Percival told Merlin the next morning. "We depart for Camelot at once."

"Thank you." Merlin stood up from where he was kneeling next to the river, filling up his water pouch. His horse was next to Arthur's, the other prince already mounted and looking far better than he had when Merlin had arrived.

"Glad to see you've joined us this morning, Merlin," Arthur teased, though the remedy Merlin had provided had caused him to effectively glow.

"Could say the same to you," Merlin said. He grunted as he kicked himself up onto the horse. Arthur was watching him with a cheeky but soft grin.

"Hope you're better at riding than you are at magic. My shoulder feels stiff as a lame mare's joint," Arthur groaned. He rubbed his shoulder emphatically, as though this further proved his point.

"Or, you know, that could just be because you slept on a forest floor all night," Merlin guessed, shrugging, as he kicked his horse into motion behind the several knights leading their group.

"Yeah, but that doesn't seem very likely. More likely that you faffed something."

"The only thing I've faffed is the universe's attempt to get rid of you once and for all. Already starting to regret it," Merlin said dryly. The horses in front of them kicked into motion, and Merlin surveyed their surroundings warily as he and Arthur began to follow.

"Nah, you'd be lost without me. I saw your face when you roughly, sharply, painfully ripped a crossbow bolt out of my flesh," Arthur responded. "Looked more scared than the most cowardly man I've ever seen."

"That's because you were hallucinating from the pain," Merlin rationalized, staring up at the canopy of trees, not seeing Arthur's focused gaze on him. He glanced over and Arthur looked down at his reins.

"If I was in so much pain that I was hallucinating, you clearly didn't do your job correctly," Arthur said.

"If I hadn't done my job correctly, you would be dead on the ground and Camelot would fall to ruin. You just don't like to admit that I saved your life," Merlin teased.

"I'm absolutely happy to admit it," Arthur chirped. "When it happens. The fact of the matter is, Gaius could have repaired me just as well."

"Gaius would have used leaf water and smelly mush, and you would be sore and still essentially cut open. Thanks to me, you won't even have a scar," Merlin said.

"Emotional scars. Memory of all the pain."

"The only pain currently happening is being caused by you, and it's happening to me," Merlin said. "At least when it was happening to you, you were passed out and unable to talk. And I'm not the one who had the arrow in you anyway, so that means I'm absolutely right, and you can shut your prattish mouth." Arthur threw his head back and laughed, a sound that rang like music all throughout Merlin after the fright he had suffered on Arthur's behalf.

When they arrived back at Camelot, the gates welcomed them gladly. Queen Hunith looked to be in suspiciously good health. Merlin, shockingly, looked even better. His face was bright and alive, his eyes dancing with the promise of happiness, trained on Arthur, the sun glinting on his hair. Arthur looked just as well, his skin colored, a matching grin stretched helplessly across his face. He hopped off his horse and offered Merlin his assistance to dismount immediately. Merlin accepted without hesitation, nearly tumbling forward. It was no surprise when Arthur caught him and held him steady.

"Thanks," Merlin said, almost at the point of embarrassing himself from gratitude when a throat clearing sounded from their left. King Uther made his way to them, seeming to realize only as he made the intruding noise that he had interrupted.

"No trouble," Arthur answered anyway, then turned to greet his father.

"You look quite well, Arthur. I am glad that no harm has come to you," King Uther granted. He looked almost ashamed. If Merlin hadn't witnessed their last altercation, he might have been more curious.

"All thanks to Prince Merlin, here," Arthur said. Merlin almost dared to think that he heard affection in Camelot's tone. "I'd not be in half as good condition if it wasn't for him."

King Uther looked at Merlin as though greatly surprised. "I thank you for the service you have done my boy. I hope you will dine with us tonight," he invited.

"Oh. Er-"

"Father, might I have a word with you in private before this conversation continues?" Arthur asked. King Uther looked taken aback.

"Certainly."

The two of them walked a sizeable distance away, leaving Merlin to walk awkwardly over to his mother and father. His mother was beaming, and his father looked incredibly proud.

"How'd it go?" Queen Hunith asked, though her expression and tone suggested that she knew the answer better than Merlin did.

Merlin couldn't keep his face straight - couldn't keep anything straight. His voice was light and airy as he confessed, "I think there could be something there. He might be starting to like me. Or I'm going crazy and projecting my own wishes into his surly face."

"I think you have nothing to fear, son," Merlin's father said. "Here comes Prince Arthur now."

Merlin turned to look where his father gestured with a nod. Prince Arthur was indeed making a proud conquest toward Merlin, his head held high, his face still light. It was such a relief to see after the condition Merlin had found him in yesterday.

"Don't we have something to see to, King Balinor?" Merlin's mother asked discreetly. Before Merlin could complain about her lack of tact, she was hurriedly shoving her husband back toward the castle. Merlin noticed many of the guards who had been lingering were well dispersed by now.

"Prince Merlin-" Arthur began.

"Just Merlin," Merlin cut off. "I've seen you dying. You can drop the formalities, Camelot."

"Alright then, Ealdor," Arthur said, expression smug and taunting, eyes rolling, "would you like to come to dinner with me this evening? Privately? Without my father around?"

Merlin grinned. "I think that sounds like a fantastic idea. This dinner wouldn't happen to be our engagement, would it?"

Arthur widened his eyes as though he had never heard of such a preposterous idea. "Now, now, Merlin. You shouldn't spoil your destiny. You absolutely have not known since before your journey to Camelot that you would be getting married. So act surprised. This is my first marriage proposal, after all."

"It'll be good practice for the real one, then," Merlin said, though he tried not to think about it. Was it just him, or was the air getting colder? Arthur seemed disgruntled as well, his lovely face souring for the first time that day. Merlin had never regretted making a joke more in his life. And he had once almost plunged Ealdor into war with a badly timed pun.

"Right. Yes. Well." Arthur beat his two fists together nonchalantly. "See you later tonight. I'll have you brought to my chambers this evening."

"Okay," Merlin agreed, breathless with embarrassment at his mistake. "See you then."

\+ + +

It was well into the evening before a knock came at Merlin's door. He had been starting to worry that Arthur wasn't sending anyone at all. Besides that, he was starving.

Merlin welcomed the serving girl who knocked on his door. "What's your name?" he asked, as she shut the door behind him. She looked almost scared that he had asked.

"Asdiria," she answered, her head bowed. She couldn't be older than seventeen. "But I just fold the sheets, my lord, I'm no one you should-"

"Asdiria, right now you are the person I want to see most in this world. Lead on," Merlin said. Then, almost immediately, he followed up with, "So what's it like to work for Arthur?"

Asdiria shook her head. "Oh no. No, I don't see much of the prince. That's left for the higher ups. I changed his sheets once, though. They were very, er, clean."

"That's... Good to know..."

"Yes, my lord."

Merlin did them both a favor and didn't talk for the rest of the journey. However, he was itching to see Arthur again. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd done something to upset him, that Arthur was now putting this dinner off. And a smaller part of him wondered what Arthur's chambers were like. How did he keep his clothes? What color were the walls? Was his bed next to a window or where no light could reach it? Was his desk cluttered or organized or not used at all? Was the window dusty? Did he leave clothes all over the floor and furniture?

"It's just through there, my lord," Asdiria informed Merlin. She pointed at a set of doors guarded by a double patrol. Merlin nodded, thanked her, and knocked. When he got the confirmation to enter, he pushed the heavy door open.

"Arthur?"

"Ah. Ealdor. Yes, come in." Arthur was perched on his bed, though he stood when Merlin entered. His room was clean and candlelit, the stone of the walls making the red atmosphere of the decorations seem warm. A fire was flickering in the neatly swept fireplace, hissing and crackling and popping. Merlin felt not under- or overwhelmed, but the precise amount of whelm he should have for the occasion.

"Please, sit," Arthur continued, and gestured to the finely laden table in the center of the room. Merlin obeyed.

"I didn't mean to upset you earlier," Merlin blurted. "I'm sorry if I did."

Arthur looked at him curiously. "It takes more than a harmless comment to upset me, Merlin. And you were quite right, too. I was only worried that my father was too close for the statement," Arthur said fluidly. He took a seat at the chair adjacent to Merlin.

"Oh. Sorry," Merlin repeated. He looked at the meats and fruits and elegant foods lining the table before him. It looked as though Arthur had pulled out all the stops.

"No, it's... I'm the one who should be sorry," Arthur said. He didn't elaborate. Merlin was about to explode, so he had to press the subject.

"Why?"

"Because I encouraged it," Arthur said, though his voice sounded much too steady now. Like he was working very hard to keep it that way. Merlin didn't know what to do with his hands. "I knew that we were participating in a charade, but I realise that I may have gotten a bit carried away with some of our interactions. And I'm sorry for that."

"Oh," Merlin said, for the thousandth time. Leave it to stupid Merlin to think that Arthur might actually enjoy his company as a person. It all had to be a part of the act. They had to appear as though they were getting along. And so, surly, aggressive Arthur had invited Merlin to his chambers for a night of awkward and painful interaction so as to avoid having to play pretend in front of his father for any more time than necessary.

"You're awfully quiet. Is something the matter? You don't seem like the chatterbox I was stuck with all morning," Arthur commented.

Merlin cleared his throat to dislodge the clump stuck in it. "No. It was just... The act," he mumbled sorely. Nothing more. Just an act.

"Are you sure? You seem, to put it quite bluntly, miserable?" Arthur pushed. Merlin wanted nothing more than to excuse himself and run back to his chambers, back to Ealdor, and to never think on Camelot again.

"I'm fine," Merlin denied quietly. He stared at his empty plate. Arthur seemed reluctant to take this for an answer, but swallowed his qualms nonetheless.

"Right," he said unsurely. "Well then. I suppose... We'd best start eat-"

"Actually," Merlin said, with an abrupt sharpness to match how quickly he sat up, "I think this was a bad idea. I should go."

"So soon? But... The proposal?" Arthur prompted.

"Taken care of. As far as anyone knows, it was romantic and... fine. It doesn't matter now, does it? It's just an act," Merlin said bitterly.

"Well... Well take the ring at least," Arthur persisted. He stood and reached into the pocket of his tunic, then produced a small golden ring. With no glamour or romance, he passed it onto Merlin. Merlin held it tightly in his palm.

"Right."

"Wait!" Arthur said tensely, as Merlin approached the door to leave. "The, um, guards." He looked slightly desperate. "They'll think it very strange if you leave so soon. So. You should probably stay."

"If it's just an act," Merlin said forcefully. He had never felt more strongly against Arthur.

"Just ten minutes. You must be hungry. We don't even have to talk," Arthur pleaded. He gestured to the platter of grapes as though it might make for more successful persuasion.

The roast pig did look good.

"Fine. No talking."

Merlin retook his seat and began filling his plate. Arthur tensely followed suit. For a moment, everything was filled with rocky silence.

Merlin focused very hard on appearing apathetic. He could tell that Arthur was regarding him carefully. The ring felt heavy in his pocket, full of misery.

Arthur broke the silence with a fast and blunt sentence.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"I thought we weren't talking."

"Just let me say this and then we won't." Merlin didn't object, so Arthur plunged ahead. "I'm very confused right now. When I said I got carried away, it was because I like you, Merlin. Not because I don't like you. I'm worried that it came out wrong."

"Well..." said Merlin carefully, "Maybe it came out wrong because it came from your big, clumsy mouth. I've never met someone so supercilious. Can you blame me for thinking you were mad?"

Arthur gave a stifled laugh. "I'm very sorry for my big mouth."

"You should be. It's quite annoying."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You're certainly one to talk."

"I am one to talk. I love talking. I talk all the time. I talk to people and I tell them how I feel in blatant honesty. It's one of the joys of being a nice person," Merlin said.

"For a nice person, you are sounding rather hostile, Ealdor."

"Yes but you deserve it. Because you're a clotpole."

"That word doesn't exist."

"Maybe not for Camelot. But I've heard it used loads of times. Mostly by me."

"Oh yeah? Pertaining to what?"

"Prince Arthur."

Arthur laughed once more. "What is it they have in the water of Ealdor to give their residents such smart mouths?" he wondered aloud. "Or are you the only one there who is suffering from this taxing affliction?"

"I'm one of a kind," Merlin assured him.

"I don't doubt it," Arthur agreed, eyeing Merlin over the brim of his goblet. "So much so that I am having quite the trouble with working out what to do with you."

"Luckily, you won't have to go to the trouble much longer," Merlin said.

"Alright would you... Stop saying that?" Arthur asked. He almost seemed... provoked. Merlin was quite astonished.

"Are you alright?"

"I told you. I'm confused," Arthur looked surly once more.

"About me?" Merlin asked in subtle puzzlement.

"About you," Arthur clarified, then said nothing further. He took a long drink of wine.

"Is that all?" Merlin asked. It had to have been ten minutes by now.

"That's all," Arthur confirmed. "For now."

"Shall I go now, then?" Merlin asked, though his tongue felt suspiciously like stone.

Arthur cleared his throat and sat a little straighter. "Actually, I was wondering if I might... propose now," Arthur said. Merlin's forehead wrinkles in confusion as his heart panged.

"You already proposed," Merlin said evenly. He dug the ring from his pocket and held it out to Arthur as proof. Arthur leaned forward and took it from him.

"Well, now I have it back. And there's nothing you can do to stop me from doing this properly," Arthur said. He set down his goblet and stood up. Merlin took a step back. Arthur looked like he'd been expecting that. "Please," he insisted. "This will help me."

Merlin was incredibly reluctant. He knew it wasn't real. Would never be. But a deep part of himself wanted to have the experience, just because. Merlin consciously made the decision to nod. Arthur beamed.

"Pick a spot in the room you'd like," Arthur prompted.

Merlin shrugged, his stomach fluttering. "Anywhere's fine." He gave Arthur a tentative smile.

Arthur frowned. "That just won't do," he said resolutely. "Go on. Take a walk about. Pick a spot. Anywhere you'd like."

Merlin's smile turned into a grin. "Wow. Anywhere in the whole room? You sure know how to treat a prince."

"I would say anywhere in Camelot, but this room is the only place where we could be completely private," Arthur defended. "If the circumstances were different..."

Merlin nodded in understanding and began a slow peruse around the room. The fireplace, warm and light. The window, overlooking all of beautiful Camelot, the moonlight just beginning its steady flicker. The table, the cluttered desk, the wardrobe. The bed. The red-draped bed with loosely hanging canopies, soft-looking and worn. The sturdy wood that held it up and stretched beyond the mattress, nearly to the ceiling. If he had to pick a place...

"Here," he said, disrupting the long, curious silence. Arthur, who had been sitting patiently and turning the ring over in his fingers, looked over his shoulder. He stood, his demeanor calm but light.

"Perfect," he trilled. His steps were easy as he crossed the room to Merlin. Merlin perched himself on the edge of the mattress, feeling slightly ridiculous. Here he was, waiting for Prince Arthur Pendragon to propose to him. For absolutely no reason. Everything would be moot in two days' time.

"You might be a bit overdoing this," Merlin suggested, his voice an octave higher than he'd have liked.

"Never," Arthur assured him, with a wink. Merlin was glad that he was already sitting. “You all set?”

“Yeah,” Merlin answered. His palms were sweaty and trembling. He captured every nanosecond to memory. Arthur was proposing.

He got down on one knee, so that there was barely any space between the two of them. Gracefully, Arthur held up the ring to Merlin. Merlin’s breath was full and expectant. Arthur was looking at him as though he was cherishing every moment. “Prince Merlin of Ealdor, will you marry me?” In one breath, it was out there. Merlin’s still hitched in his throat.

“Yes.”

How his heart ached for it to be true. Merlin wanted this to be real more than he had ever wanted anything. It hurt so badly, in his very core, that he had no idea how the illusion could also make him so happy. Arthur’s face lit up. Merlin nearly thought that this wasn’t fake after all. It had to be an elaborate ruse. Nobody could pretend to be that happy. Not even Arthur Pendragon, the famed warrior prince of Camelot.

“Brilliant,” Arthur said in answer.

“Yeah,” Merlin agreed. The air was still stiff around them with tension. They would not look away from the other’s face.

“The ring,” Arthur said at last.

“Oh.” Merlin sat, transfixed, as Arthur picked up his hand and slid the golden band onto Merlin’s finger. “It’s very nice.”

“It was my mother’s,” Arthur explained softly. The ring was securely around Merlin’s finger, but Arthur did not let go of his hand. “The first ring my father ever bought her. And he bought her many.” Arthur was looking at Merlin’s hand rather than his face, but Merlin was too mesmerized to look away himself.

“I’m sure that-”

“Can I kiss you, Merlin?” Arthur asked. Merlin had almost managed to convince himself that Arthur hadn’t said anything before he realized that he had nodded. Arthur wasted no time. His lips were pliant, and willing to meet Merlin at every point. They fought and teased, bringing Merlin to the brink.

Arthur's lips lost contact with Merlin's. Merlin's heart sank. He had known that Arthur would gain control much too quickly. Merlin kept his eyes closed, so as not to be disappointed. Arthur's lips refound themselves on Merlin's jaw. Lightly at first, then more insistent, then passionate and adoring. Merlin's only form of communication was breath. Arthur wasn't making much of any sound, apart from the light suck and slip of his mouth on Merlin's neck.

"This is a bad idea," Merlin panted. "Why are we-"

"Shall I stop?" Arthur asked. He waited, lips poised just above Merlin's skin. Merlin had never known an ache so bad as the absence of an ache. He brought his hand to the back of Arthur's neck and pulled him down again.

"Absolutely not."

Arthur's lips reconnected with Merlin's shoulder, nipped underneath the fabric of his tunic and sucked the skin there lightly, synchronised with Merlin's surprised gasp. His free hand latched to Arthur's hip, his thumb searching for and tracing over the bone there.

Suddenly, Arthur's mass was guiding Merlin backward onto the bed, so Arthur would soon be laying over him. Merlin all but surrendered himself, letting Arthur position him, giving him total control. He let the worry melt to the back of his mind, let the desire to have his lips on Arthur overwhelm him.

Just as Merlin felt entirely certain that his body couldn't handle this much want, a knock sounded on the door. Merlin’s bubble popped with such disgrace that he fell back into the bed, utterly defeated.

"We could ignore them," Arthur suggested, his lips swollen and kiss-fucked. Merlin felt his bubble start to gain placement again.

"They know we're in here."

"To be continued, then," Arthur promised. He stood up, leaving Merlin feeling incredibly vacant, and went to the door.

"Arthur?"

"Morgana. What is it?"

"You could have received me better, dear brother."

"And you could have forced yourself on me at a better time."

Merlin vaulted out of the bed to relieve suspicion. The next moment, Morgana entered, killing the rest of the mood as she asked what Arthur could possibly mean by that.

\+ + +

It was just after midday that Asdiria turned up on Merlin’s doorstep once more. Merlin was equal parts delighted and horrified. He hadn't seen Arthur since the hasty departure he has made at Morgana's entrance, and with good reason. Arthur didn't want anything to do with him. It was all a charade. They had both confirmed that.

"Prince Arthur wishes you to join him in the King's Court for a special announcement. He requests that you be wearing what he gave you last night," Asdiria said, curtsying hesitantly. Ah. The engagement announcement. Merlin couldn't duck this invitation, like he'd been doing to Arthur's messengers all morning. "He didn't specify anything for me, that's all I was told."

"Right. Okay. Let's go," said Merlin. He shoved the hand sporting the ring as far into his pocket as it would go. Adidas nodded and turned on her heel, leading him, though he was quite sure that he knew the way by now.

"The Prince seemed very excited," Asdiria commented.

"Yeah, well, he would," Merlin agreed. He was supposed to seem excited. That was the point of the ruse. Merlin had to give Arthur a silent congratulation at being a much better actor than his first impression would have led Merlin to believe.

"The doors are just through there, m'lord. You'll excuse me if I enter in through the servant's door?" Asdiria asked.

"Of course," Merlin nodded, though he didn't know if he would rather have walked in alone or not. But he couldn't very well have called Asdiria back over to clutch his hand for emotional support. The thought was ludicrous. He pushed open the door on his own and walked inside. Arthur was already within, speaking to his father, as were many other civilians and Knights. He turned when Merlin entered, his face breaking into a beam. By the time it took Merlin to feel very nauseous (not long at all), Arthur had already halved the distance between them.

"It's good to see you. Join me at the front?" he asked. Merlin knew that they had a ruse to keep up, and the sooner he complied, the sooner he would never have to see Camelot again. Merlin noticed Arthur's look of glee at the ring resting on the hand Merlin had relinquished to him.

"Prince Merlin," King Uther acknowledged cordially, as Merlin and Arthur reached the small incline of steps just before the throne. Arthur turned back to his many citizens.

Without hesitation, he announced in a triumphant voice, "People of Camelot. You have been chosen to bear witness to a truly wondrous occasion." Arthur was looking directly at Merlin now. "The houses of Pendragon and Emrys have decided to join. I would like to announce my engagement to Prince Merlin of Ealdor."

The room rang with applause, and Merlin's stomach dropped. He hoped that his smile looked more convincing than it felt. Arthur's thumb was rubbing over Merlin's index finger knuckle. King Uther stepped forward, looking as delighted as someone of his personality could. On the bright side, Merlin would never actually have this man as a father-in-law.

"What a truly wonderful day this is! I am glad to announce that Prince Merlin will be staying in Camelot. The wedding will be held tomorrow morning. I hope to see you all there!" King Uther raised his arms and beckoned the guests to dismiss themselves. There wasn't a moment's hesitation. Only the guards and Pendragons remained, along with Merlin, until Arthur addressed his father.

"I wonder if I might have a moment alone with Prince Merlin, Father." Arthur looked completely composed. The King looked bemused at the request. He granted it to them nonetheless, sweeping out of the room, and taking the guards with him. Merlin had absolutely no desire to stick around, so he ducked into the crowd of Knights and hurried back to his chambers.

\+ + +

Mid-afternoon and a knock rang through the wood of Merlin’s door. Will went to answer it as Merlin got off the bed.

“Is Prince Merlin here?”

Merlin hadn’t expected to hear Princess Morgana’s voice drifting through his room. Especially not after their awkward encounter less than a day ago. He looked toward the door. She was being escorted in by Will.

"Princess Morgana," Merlin greeted, albeit in tense surprise. Here was his fake-fiance's sister barging into his room.

"Morgana, please," she insisted. "My title is a formality, it's trivial."

"Of course, Morgana," Merlin granted. "What can I do for you?"

"I just came for a chat. In private, if we could," she suggested in a way that meant this was not a suggestion but an order.

"Will," Merlin said softly, nodding toward the door. Will bowed and left the room, leaving a stiff silence after the loud thud of the door.

"I suppose I'll be completely honest with you, Merlin," Morgana said. She perched herself on the windowsill. "Arthur told me about his agreement with you after you left last night - nice tact, by the way. Not at all suspicious." She laughed in the span of time that it took Merlin to get very, very worried.

"He told you?"

"You don't have to worry, Merlin. I'm the least of your troubles. Actually, I was hoping to help," Morgana said. Her voice was too confident for Merlin to even wonder if he had heard her incorrectly.

"To help?" Merlin asked skeptically. "How could you possibly help? What is there to help with?"

"Help you. With Arthur. I know he's an idiot, and you know he's an idiot. What  _you_ don't know is how oblivious he truly is. Even to himself. But I'm his sister - I know about what upsets him before he does." Morgana's presence flattened Merlin. She took up the entire room without even trying. Her persona glowed.

"I upset him?" Merlin asked.

"His stupidity upsets him. And I'm allowed to say that because I am his sister." She lifted her head up nobly, but Merlin could tell she was joking.

"So, he _is_ upset?"

"He's... conflicted," Morgana explained. "The situation is delicate. Three days ago he was in love with Gwen, my maidservant. Now, he's engaged to be married to a Prince from Ealdor. And, the worst part is, he  _wants_ to get married."

"Glad I'm the worst part," Merlin quipped.

"Indeed," Morgana said languidly. "What my brother doesn't realize is that the cost of happiness is usually some sacrifice. In this case, what he leaves behind will be someone whom he could never benefit from. And then he would be happy with you."

"Morgana, I really appreciate you coming to talk to me, but I still don't know what any of this is for," Merlin said.

" _What it's for_ ," Morgana emphasized, "is your wedding."

"There isn't going to  _be_ a wed-"

"All I'm saying is that Arthur may be an idiot, but he's a noble idiot. And he always ends up following his heart," Morgana interrupted. "You should never give up hope. His stupid, courageous heart never fails to win the day."

Merlin stared at her. "We're not getting married," he said bluntly. It was better to keep repeating the fact, to make it easier when he would have to accept it tomorrow.

Morgana stood and swept past him, back toward the door. She opened it, peered back at him, and spoke, "Whatever you say." She left him alone with his thoughts.

 

\+ + +

 

Come evening, Merlin was nearly at his wit's end. His mother was in the room with him, the bath having just been cleaned up, and tending to his every anxiety.

"I don't know why I feel like this," Merlin muttered. "We aren't even getting married. Does everyone feel this way the night before a wedding?"

"Well, I don't know about everyone," Hunith said kindly. She was combing through Merlin's slightly damp hair.

"Did you?"

Hunith took her time in answering. "Your father and I were no ordinary couple. It was a different time. Even still, I can't validate your emotions until I know how you feel."

"Like someone punched a hole in my chest and filled it with water," Merlin confessed. "Like tomorrow is going to be the worst day of my entire life."

"Well, I didn't feel quite so bad. I admit that I was... Excited. If you'll believe it, your father was once a strapping young man," Hunith teased. She placed a kiss on his temple and set the comb down. She remained standing behind him, the pair gazing at their reflections in the mirror.

"Do you not still think him handsome?" Merlin asked.

"Of course I do. But what I'm saying is, tastes change. I fell in love with a handsome, beardless prince, and here I am, nearly twenty years later, with a bear for a husband whom I couldn't adore more. You may think that Arthur is the only one for you right now, but come five years, who knows?" Hunith said. Merlin's hands felt numb.

"I really like him right now. And, tomorrow... I'm going to have to walk all the way up to the aisle with him until we say no. I'll be so close to having him, and then he'll rip himself away from me so he can go stare at a serving girl who's in love with another," Merlin said. "I wish there was a way to fast forward through time so it could happen without me having to experience it. I just want to be an old man and die alone like I'm meant to."

Hunith looked incredibly torn between laughing and reproving him. She settled for brushing his hair back over his forehead with her fingers, smiling lightly, and muttering, "If there is anything I know, it is that wherever you go, whomever you end up with, romantically or not, you have the power within you to be great. And I love you as much as it is possible for a mother to love her son without dying of heart failure."

"I love you, too," Merlin said. "I should probably go to bed soon. It'll be a long day tomorrow."

"And you will get through it. I'm so proud of you, Merlin." Hunith kissed her son's head once more and left him to his thoughts.

\+ + +

Will was preparing Merlin for the ceremony that morning when Merlin first started crying. He wiped the tear quickly, a passive attempt at seeming to brush some dirt from his face. But Will noticed. Will always noticed.

"My Lord?"

"It's nothing." Merlin shoved his ringed hand into his pocket.

"Alright," Will granted. "On a completely unrelated subject that has nothing to do with this, I should check in and make sure that you know you can tell me anything. And also remind you who has been your best friend for seven years."

"I know, Will, I know. Thank you. I'm sorry," Merlin cleared more dust from his face.

"Is it to do with the wedding?" Will acted as though he hadn't spoken, surreptitiously fastening a pin on Merlin's robes.

Will always noticed.

"I'm going to tell you something, Will. Only because now it doesn't matter anyway..." Merlin launched into the whole story without a second thought, not even bothering to leave out what had happened in Arthur's room. His plea for help went unchallenged, Will listening to every word without falter, his expression stoic and impartial--

Meanwhile, Arthur paced in his room, wringing his hands together, trying to decide what to do. He had to find Merlin--

"If you're going to cry, my lord, best to get it out now," Will suggested. "Wouldn't do to cry on the altar. Leastways, not because you're unhappy."

"You're right," Merlin sighed. He stared at the floor and sighed--

And a knock came on Arthur's door. He hurried to open it, a small part of him preparing for and hoping it to be Merlin. It wasn't.

"King Balinor," Arthur stammered, then took several steps back. Not only was it a king, but it was Merlin's _father_ on Arthur's doorstep. "How can I be of assistance?"

"I know of your plan with my son," the king said. Arthur blanched, his stomach exploding. Merlin had told him? Or they hadn't been careful enough? Or- "And I hope you realise how decent he is to do this for you. On his behalf, we will not dissolve the treaty."

"You - I - what?" Arthur asked. It was his wedding day. His brain couldn't quite process this--

So Merlin wiped his eyes for the final time, surveying himself carefully in the mirror. He looked acceptable, in his off-white robes, draped in finery and wearing a ceremonial crown. "I think I'm ready," Merlin decided at last. "Send in the maids."

"As you wish, sire," Will said, and, bowing, backed out of the room. Merlin's eyes didn't leave the mirror--

"All of that being said," Balinor told Arthur gruffly, staring him dead in the eye, "it would be good of you not to put my boy through the ceremony. We'd appreciate it greatly if you would call it off before he has to walk down the aisle, only to be denied at the last moment."

"N-no," Arthur stammered, before he could piece together a coherent thought. King Balinor looked affronted.

"No?" he asked. "You listen here, boy. I speak not as a king, but as a loving father-"

"Wait," Arthur sputtered. "Sorry. Just. I have to... I..." Arthur gestured his intent to pass King Balinor. The king, looking more bewildered, parted in confusion. Arthur dove past him and into the hallway, leaving the king standing in his chambers, alone--

Merlin let the girls move idly around him, tucking and pinning and decorating him in ways that Will couldn't have. He had a flower on his tunic that hadn't been there before. Asdiria was on his side, brushing down his right arm smoothly.

"Is all well, m'lord?" she asked casually. Merlin couldn't deny, even to himself, that he did look absolutely miserable. On his wedding day. The truth was, he couldn't be farther from well. But he didn't voice that to Asdiria.

"Nervous," he answered instead, as Arthur dashed through the corridor toward Merlin's chambers, dressed in his Camelot finest, pushing past guards, party-goers, and servants alike. Something cold hit the side of his tunic, dripping over him. Shouts followed him as he pressed on. Merlin was more important.

"That's understandable," Asdiria told Merlin, smiling bracingly. "But I'm sure the prince is quite nice."

"If nothing else, at least he has clean sheets," Merlin pitched in. Asdiria gave a high-pitched giggle.

"I've heard that it's the most important thing in a husband, anyway," she told him, straightening up and redoing the clumsy fastening of his cloak.

Merlin was about to reply when a series of frantic knocks came on the door. His heart nearly leapt out of his skin, such was the surprise of going from a low-level emotion to that fright.

Arthur burst inside the room.

The servants all protested, exclaiming that he must get out. Arthur said nothing. His eyes found Merlin, and for a moment, his footsteps faltered. Merlin stood stock still, unable to process what was happening or why Arthur could be here. He looked handsome. Merlin felt a soft pang at knowing he would not be marrying this man today.

“Arthur! What are you doing? Your shirt-”

Arthur swept past the maids so that he was all but two feet in front of Merlin. "I think we should get married," he huffed, his energy exertion catching up to him. "Do you want to?"

"Must be a very good thing it's your wedding day, then," Asdiria commented.

Arthur paid her no mind. "Do you want to?" he asked, breathless.

"What?" Merlin asked, his tolerance for Arthur's antics pulled quite low from the previous day's. His heart was hammering out of his tunic.

"I want to call the ruse off. I think we should be married. For real," Arthur declared, his eyes shining.

"You're serious?"

"I'm serious. Come on, Ealdor," Arthur persuaded. Merlin's heart was beyond strain. His breathing was shallow. All of the wedding stress that he had cast off himself with the conviction that it wasn't real hit him in the span of two consecutive seconds, during which his heart fully stopped beating.

"Fine," he said, grinning, eyes shining, knowing Arthur would understand how much he wanted this behind Merlin's noncommittal answer. Arthur's face lit up, tired and red though it was, and it was the most beautiful sight Merlin had ever seen.

"Brilliant. See you out there, then," Arthur breathed. He took one last look at Merlin's figure, grinned, then turned and glided out of the room. Merlin stood rooted to the spot as the door clang echoed, then jerked to the front of the mirror.

"I'm getting married!" he yelled hysterically, not worrying about how the maids might react to this strange turn of events. Why was this prince behaving so strangely when his marriage had been arranged two days previous? Merlin obsessed over the spots on his face. He was getting married now. To Arthur. None of these would do. "How do I look?" he demanded of Asdiria, spinning on his heels to see her shocked expression.

"The same as you did only a moment ago, m'lord. Very handsome," she assured him calmly. Then, for good measure, she added, "Fit for a prince."

"Yes, but you saw Arthur!" Merlin yelled, waving frantically toward the door. "He looked...! Incredible!"

Asdiria huffed.

"Not that I don't look incredible too!" Merlin complied. "It's just. I'm. Marrying him! How can I compare to the prince of Camelot?"

"You had to see the look on his face when he walked in. He's completely smitten!" Asiria said.

Merlin faltered. He looked at himself in the mirror once more. "Really?" he asked, dumbstruck.

"Really, m'lord. You look amazing."

\+ + +

 **  
  
** When the door opened, Merlin was greeted by the anxious faces of Camelot civilians. There were flowers and draperies spaced throughout the hall. It was extravagant. It was for their wedding.

Merlin walked up to Arthur on his father's arm. It was in that moment that Merlin's past and future fused together, and he felt it like the symmetrical binding of their two kingdoms. After all of the denial, after dogging footsteps for two decades, he had finally caught up to Fate. It was standing before him, clasping his hands, staring at him like Merlin was Fate, too.

They shared their first genuine kiss, no shrouds, no excuses, in that moment. All of Camelot cheered for them. Merlin was so sad to see the moment go. The only uplifting prospect was that the next moment would be even better.

The saddest part was that most of the day was a blur. He would have to rely on Arthur to retell the best moments of it. King Uther, far too drunk at the celebratory feast. Merlin's mother nearly sobbing with joy. Will and Asdiria meeting in the heart of the evening and striking up a fond friendship...

But all of those questions would happen later. Now, being pulled into Arthur's chambers by their intertwined hands, Merlin had no extra thought to focus on anything other than the way the flickering firelight made Arthur's hair appear to be dancing. He was looking at Merlin like he had finally made the right choice.

"You know what the worst part is?" Merlin asked.

Arthur cocked his head and wrinkled his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware there  _was_ a worst part. Are you already getting sick of me?"

"As much as it pains me to say it, I don't think I'll be  _able_ to get sick of you," Merlin admitted. "No, the worst part is that our nicknames can't work anymore."

"Nicknames?"

"You can't call me Ealdor anymore," Merlin said listlessly. "Unless you plan on moving back there with me. In which case, I can't call you Camelot."

"I'm sure we'll be able to come up with something that works," Arthur said. He drew Merlin into him, pausing just behind the doorframe so that they were front to front. Merlin had grown quite used to kissing Arthur in the past few hours, but he certainly was not bored of it. Arthur kissed him slowly, intimately, thoroughly. Merlin couldn't think how wrong he had been at the start of his time in Camelot.

"I'm sure we'll be able to come up with something," Merlin agreed, between kisses. He wrapped his hands around Arthur's middle and held him close. He couldn't believe there was a time when he thought he hadn't wanted this, hadn't wanted Arthur, all of him.

"Bed?" Arthur asked, his voice rough. He was nosing into the crook of Merlin's neck, pressing gentle pecks of his lips. Merlin bit his lip and nodded. Arthur hummed.

Arthur walked backward, pulling Merlin with him. Merlin followed, excited, palms sweating into the fabric of Arthur's tunic. Arthur placed an open-mouthed kiss on Merlin's jaw, bit lightly at the skin there. Merlin let out a soft, breathy hiss of pleasure. Arthur resurfaced and nipped his lips, a smile that he permanently imprinted onto Merlin.

"Lie back," Merlin said softly. Arthur seemed unused to taking orders, so Merlin helped him. He pressed Arthur back by the shoulders until Arthur fell onto the mattress. Before he could regain his sense of direction, Merlin was climbing on top of him, a knee on either side. He leaned down and kissed Arthur passionately, to which Arthur replied with unexpected interest. Merlin wouldn't have thought he took kindly to being ordered around.

"Merlin-"

"Shhh," Merlin said. He gave in to his desires and began to worship Arthur's skin with his mouth. It was irresistible to him, the smooth, soft feeling.

" _Merlin_ ," Arthur insisted.

Merlin sat up. "What?"

"It's just that this usually works best  _without_ clothes," Arthur pointed out, raising his eyebrows.

Arthur wanted - Merlin was going to -  _oh_. That part of this honestly hadn't occurred to Merlin before. Nor the fact that the taking off of the clothes involved Merlin seeing Arthur naked.

"You're right," Merlin laughed, but did not move otherwise. After a moment of that position, Arthur still lying there, Merlin perched atop him, very aware of the bulge he was sitting on, Arthur seemed to catch on.

"Are you nervous?" Arthur asked softly.

Merlin hesitated before shaking his head. Arthur rolled his eyes fondly.

"I am, too," he said simply. 

Merlin stared at him. " _You're_ nervous?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, Merlin, I got married to you today," Arthur said. "We are both aware that that necessitated some degree of liking you. Therefore,  _yes_ , I am quite nervous about our first consummation."

"But - but you're  _Arthur Pendragon_ ," Arthur said. "You're famed on your looks and courage. You can't be nervous about this!"

"You're  _Merlin Emrys_ ," Arthur retorted. "Everything I've ever heard about you was the Great Prophecy of your birth, how you're destined to be the world's greatest sorcerer and bring about a union of the Five Kingdoms with such equality that the world has not yet conceived. Pardon me if I find that a  _bit_ overwhelming." He shook his head affectionately.

Merlin was frozen for what felt like ages. After a moment, he muttered, "Fair enough," then ducked down and kissed Arthur fervently once more. Arthur detached their lips ingloriously.

"Merlin?"

Lips still closed, lips still stretched outward, Merlin intoned, "Hmm?"

"Clothes."

"Right."

He rolled off Arthur and began to pull off his tunic, then his trousers. Arthur was on the other side of the bed, presumably doing the same. That is, until Merlin felt a pair of hands on his lower back. Merlin ceased movement.

"That doesn't mean it can't be romantic," Arthur murmured into his neck. He spun Merlin around and gave him a dizzying kiss, then quickly, dexterously, breached the hem of Merlin's trousers. Merlin gasped, his hands finding Arthur's shoulder.

"Are you still nervous?" Merlin asked.

"Yes," Arthur answered evenly. "Are you?" Merlin gave a soft nod. "Do you want to stop?" A head shake. "You're sure." A nod. "You don't have to try to impress me."

"I'm not trying to," Merlin said quietly. "I guess it just comes naturally." He leaned forward and kissed Arthur, then pulled off his tunic. Arthur was looking at him lovingly, his mouth open slightly, eyes trailing over Merlin's face. Merlin was sure now. He did want this, want Arthur. The rest came naturally.

Once undressed, the two fell back into bed. Arthur preyed upon Merlin, down his chest, past his navel, finally landing where Merlin burned the most for him. Merlin fisted his fingers into Arthur's sheets, back arched, toes curled.

He wanted to give Arthur as much as he was receiving, wanted to give his whole self in return. Arthur's hand was fixed onto the curve of Merlin's hip, a solid anchor. Merlin covered that hand with his own, embracing every sensation, feeling in it his shoulders and in his chest. He chased the pull in his stomach, the burning lust that had since amassed inside of him. Arthur was with him the entire time, guiding him, egging him on, until Merlin saw sparks and called to Arthur with hitched breath. And then he reciprocated in kind until they were a panting mass that lay as one. Merlin lay on his chest, his eyelids heavy, his heart satisfied.

"I could get used to this," he admitted weakly. Arthur gave a hoarse laugh.

"Yes. At least now we know that there is, in fact, good use for your mouth," Arthur replied. He was stroking Merlin's hair lovingly.

"Shut up," Merlin muttered, though in truth he was already beginning to fall asleep. "Don't forget that we're going to see the dragons."

"What? You're not making any sense," Arthur said.

"In Ealdor. On our honeymoon..." Merlin drawled. Arthur laughed as the memory was recalled to him.

"Ah, yes. The dragons. Merlin, I'm prepared to face almost any horror you could throw at me, but I am  _not_ going to poke at dragons' nests for  _fun_ ," Arthur said resolutely.

"You'll see my way," Merlin murmured, and then finally succumbed past the point of conversation. Arthur smiled as he looked down at him. And, yes, he thought. Somehow, he was sure that he would.


End file.
